In These Halls
by girl from the lake cottage
Summary: Hogwarts Castle through the eyes of ten past students, from Aurora Sinistra to Kingsley Shacklebolt to Dorcas Meadowes to Alphard Black.
1. Aurora

_**Aurora Sinistra – Professor of Astronomy**_

The first thing she noticed when she stepped off of the train that first year was the sky. Gone was the smog and clouds that so often covered London – there was rather a great dark blanket of blue sprinkled with what looked like diamonds. At age eleven Aurora Sinistra could finally see the stars.

Hogwarts had been her dream for years. Ever since she was three years old and her parents first explained the reason why what occurred within the house stayed within the house, Aurora had tried to learn all she could about the school she was to attend. Each birthday she received a stack of new books – _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, _A History of Magic_, and, her personal favorite, _Hogwarts: A History_. And she read them until they were loose in their bindings and pages were falling out. Mum and Dad asked her over and over if she wanted to try primary school but Aurora preferred learning at home. She had neighborhood friends, of course, but she lived and breathed for the day when she would board the Hogwarts Express that would take her north to Hogwarts.

Finally that day had come. And Aurora could finally see the stars.

* * *

She barely noticed Hagrid's greeting or the boat ride across the lake or the excited whispers of the other first-years. She was focused on the sky. But her eyes widened when she saw the ceiling of the Great Hall, thinking at first she was still outdoors. The ceiling perfectly matched the positions of the stars outside, and she could have gazed upward for hours. But soon her attention was drawn to the front of the hall, where a man with a long white beard and twinkling blue eyes was placing a hat upon a stool. Name after name was called, and soon it was her own turn to be sorted.

It was a bit unnerving to sit in front of a few hundred people with a big black hat covering your head. But Aurora had never been one to be easily frightened. So when the hat upon her head boomed out "Ravenclaw" after a few short seconds she hopped primly down from the stool, handed the hat to Luke Stempson, and found an empty seat at the Ravenclaw table.

Ravenclaw. House of the wise and the curious, the blue and bronze, the eagle and the Grey Lady. Aurora had read all of that in her books and was proud of her placement, but nothing had prepared her for the sight of the common room. For there, in the westward-facing tower, was yet another ceiling of stars and a ring of windows through which the night sky showed its silky skin.

It was those stars that Aurora grew to love. The stars outside the castle walls and the stars within. Going home over the summer was the worst of it, because she never got to see Hercules with his sword or Aquila's outspread wings or the long tail of Scorpius. If any of her fellow students ever had questions during a late-night cram session, they always knew that they could find Aurora up in the Astronomy Tower. And sometimes, when no one was watching, she would open the heavy door at the top of the tower and sit out on the ramparts as Venus rose up into the sky in the early morning.

And when it was cloudy, there were always the ceilings. Though the Great Hall would often mimic the outdoor weather, the common room's ceiling always showed the stars as they were if they could be seen. She would lay on the floor and stare up, memorizing the curve of Pegasus's wing and the direction of Cygnus's flight. She was never insulted for her love of the cosmos, for Ravenclaw students recognized in each other the passionate desire for things outside of themselves, the yearning for something bigger.

Aurora's stars were never used for divination. No, her stars told stories. Stories of heroes and villains, stories of wars and hope. Stories that had lived for generations, which had not faded with time or grown old with those they immortalized. They were flames placed for a reason, flames placed to give a sense of wonder and a sense of hope to those who were constantly drawn to their light.

* * *

Soon hope was needed more than ever before. Rumors of Voldemort's Death Eaters grew stronger and stronger as Aurora's years at Hogwarts progressed. Being supporters of Muggles, Mum and Dad decided that it would be safest for her to stay in school, and they were probably more right than they knew. During summers the Sinistras would travel, staying in New York City for a few summers with some of Mum's old friends from college, and visiting relatives on the Continent other summers. They never said anything about the war, but Aurora knew that one by one many of her parents' friends were being killed by followers of the Dark Lord and that Mum and Dad were doing their best to stay safe. Some nights they would sit in the kitchen of whatever house they were staying in, planning escape routes they hoped would never be used, and years later Mum showed Aurora a scrapbook of the friends that had been lost during the first Rise. Tears streaming down her face, Mum had shaken her head, saying "'Rora, I thought then that the world was ending. Now that it's over, that He's over, I can hardly move on. I never realized that the day might come when I wouldn't have to be afraid anymore."

It was easy to be afraid back then. And Aurora always knew that that was one of the reasons He had so much power. So she forced herself to be strong. She watched Lily Evans and James Potter finish the year ahead of her and knew that they were two Hogwarts students who would use their knowledge to fight Voldemort as hard as they could. And she and several Ravenclaws would huddle together in the common room once a month, beneath the watchful stars, to discuss ways that they could form their own subtle resistance. And she never cried. Not even at the horrible news of James and Lily's deaths, not even at the wonderful news that the Dark Lord had disappeared when he tried to kill their son

* * *

When she finished school it was really no surprise that Dumbledore asked her to stay on as Astronomy professor. The youngest professor Hogwarts had had for years, it was hard to teach the first few years. Students came to school filled with nightmares of horrible acts, and when the Dark Lord was finally defeated it still took months and months to calm and comfort the children. She was still nearly a child herself.

But she could always look to the stars. Not for guidance, not really. But for light. The stars never lost their light, not even in the green glare of the Dark Mark. The Ravenclaw ceiling kept its deep blue and bronze all through the darkness of those years. The Great Hall never became a place of fear. And outside the castle the constellations always continued on their way, tracing their ancient paths into velvet.

It was the stars of Hogwarts that kept the light in her eyes. And one morning, nearly twenty years after first gazing up at the sky above the castle, Aurora Sinistra watched the Morning Star pass once more across the sky of the rising sun and cried. And the stars would keep on shining.

* * *

In these halls, she could see the light.


	2. Montague

_**Montague Knightley – 1506-1588, Wizard Chess Champion**_

It had always been the library for him, from the very first. Within those dusty rows of books he could hole up with his best friends and play a rousing game of chess whenever they became bored with studying. He couldn't really pull out his chess set at home, where there were too many prying eyes. His father had always said that it was a good thing His Majesty was too busy trying to deal with all of the religious uprising in the country to notice that one of his godchildren disappeared every fall to some strange school in Scotland. Mother said that this was one family secret that could never be let out, no matter how much the scandalmongers at court were willing to pay. She told everyone that Monty had to attend school on the Continent in order to become a well-rounded young man fit for court. Father always laughed at that one.

"Martha," Father would tell Mother, "Remember that it is your fault that we ever got to this point."

"Richard," Mother would spit back, "I might be the witch in the family, but it wasn't me who insisted that he attend Hogwarts. I had always hoped that he would be a Squib."

But then Mother would start laughing too. Monty knew that both of his parents were glad that he had a knack for wizardry, no matter how dangerous it was. But maybe it was the danger of it that made it so worthwhile, the sense of a subtle rebellion against the extravagance of court life. Both of his parents had been born into wealthy, well-placed families within the Tudor circle. And from a young age their marriage had been planned. Yes, the Knightleys were unaware of who the Hastings really were, but Richard had developed an unexpected affection for Martha despite the "forced" marriage and handled the news of his wife's identity very well. So young Montague Knightly had been raised in a home that did not attempt to burn his mother and where he was taught to ride his broom and raise his wand only in secret.

When he first saw the castle, tall across the lake, he nearly stopped breathing. This was a place where he could be free.

* * *

It was an easy school to grow into, to find yourself. And Monty found himself in Slytherin. It wasn't a bad house, not really, no matter what everyone thought. True, many of its inhabitants were not of the kind-hearted sort, but if every student was as sweet as a Hufflepuff everyone would have toothaches. And there was an enjoyable sort of camaraderie in being known as a part of the sinister house. There were always interesting conversations to be had, always people to tease, always new spells to find to get out of doing homework. But his closest friends were two boys who had been placed in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, a friendship which some students struggled to understand. But within a country where it was difficult to trust your brother, finding a friend was like finding a hidden treasure.

So the three boys, Montague and Charles and Timothy, could hardly be separated. They would sit together at meals, forgoing the tradition to sit at their own house tables to instead rotate each night. Books were shared between the three, and more often than not all three would be longing after the same girl. The professors looked at them and smiled, and other students tried to hide their desire for a friendship like theirs. The boys would visit each other's homes when they were not in school and write voluminous letters to each other.

* * *

It was Timothy, the Ravenclaw, son of a duke, who introduced the game of wizard chess to Monty. It was a rainy day that the third-years had been spending holed up in the library writing essays on the founder of their respective house when Timothy laid down his quill and pulled a wooden box out of his bag. He explained that his father had brought him the game as a present after a lengthy voyage to Spain and that it was being played by wizards all over the Continent.

Monty had picked up a pawn, holding the small figure in his hand. And he knew that he had finally found his calling. Here, in these little soldiers, he would learn to master the minds of countless men. He would conquer the world through this checkered board. Father had always told him that he had a military mind, and here was a battle that he could fight within the walls of the library.

The current librarian, an elderly wizard who went by the name Sir Lincoln though he was neither a knight nor from the county of Lincoln, was not averse to the playing of chess in the back corners of the library. So Timothy and Charles and Monty hung up pieces of parchment advertising a new sort of club that would meet in the library every evening at eight o'clock to play a new game brought over from the Continent. And soon they had half of the school playing, with professors dropping in from time to time to see what all the fuss was about and ghosts floating about, saying the sort of thing like, "If only they had a game like that when _I_ was alive. Perhaps then I wouldn't be dead." And it was in that way a Slytherin helped bring much of the school together in an unexpected way.

* * *

As the years passed both Timothy and Charles moved on to other interests, though their friendship with Monty remained just as strong. But the boy who had first held the enchanted pawn in his hand grew into a young man whose chess set believed in him impeccably. You remember, of course, that it is up to the wizard to gain the trust of his chess set just as it is up to the king to gain the loyalty of his soldiers. And when he finished school, Montague Knightley did not return to the court of King Henry VIII to join his father as a nobleman. Rather, the tall young man with long black hair traveled all across Europe. He shared his knowledge, teaching young boys the military prowess needed to lead an army of little men. He ran lessons and started clubs and beat the best players in the world. His mother, when asked by inquiring friends as to the whereabouts of her son, would explain that he was off fighting battles in distant lands.

And so he was. This man was not the first to show the wizarding world that those from Slytherin did not have to be evil, nor would he be the last. But he did pass on a gift. The gift of a quick, logical mind, the gift of sitting in libraries and laughing with friends. He never forgot the place where he learned his first lessons in psychological warfare. It was in the library at his old school, amidst the smell of ink and parchment, where he was able to grasp that most important freedom that had often seemed so out of reach.

* * *

In these halls, he had learned to play.

_Author's Note: Montague Knightley is found on Famous Wizard Card No. 74. He (and all other people and places mentioned herein) belong to J.K. Rowling._


	3. Amelia

_**Amelia Bones – Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, d. 1996**_

She was the first to go to school, before Edgar, before Robert. It was a moment of pride when she stepped through the gateway of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, knowing that now she was finally alone. Edgar was only a baby then, and Robert hadn't even been born yet. But at least for a little while she did not have to act like an older sister should, did not have to sit primly on an armchair while friends and family came to croon over Eddie, did not have to answer the endless questions about what it felt like to finally have a little brother. No. Her time at Hogwarts had come, and she was going to do it alone.

"Write us often," said Mother as Amelia leaned out one of the windows of the train. Mother was making Eddie wave a chubby little hand in her direction, but all he did was try to grab at a passing woman's hair.

"Let us know what house you're in," said Father. "If you're in Slytherin, well, we'll try to be happy for you." (Which meant, in Dad-speak, that she had better be in Gryffindor.)

"Don't worry, Dad. I know where I'm going to be. And it will be wonderful," she called as the train pulled out of the station in a billow of steam.

And it was.

* * *

Later, when she was asked by Robert's little girl what her favorite parts of Hogwarts were she only had one answer. It was always the Quidditch pitch and would never be anything else. It was the sense of wonder that came from soaring high above everyone else, knowing that it was you and you alone who could win, who would win.

She was Gryffindor's seeker her last four years of school. And, as her best friends would often say, she was bloody brilliant. She was not afraid to push her flying as hard as she could, and Gryffindor House was glad – they won the Quidditch Cup every year that she played. Though she had no desire to play professionally after school, Hamish MacFarlan practically begged her to join his Montrose Magpies. Amelia politely refused.

"He was full of himself. And I had better things to do with my time," she would explain.

Of course when she first arrived at Hogwarts she had no thought of playing Quidditch at all. There was the excitement of being sorted into Gryffindor, making new friends, getting to know her favorite teacher, the young Transfiguration teacher Professor McGonagall. There were pranks to pull with Gideon and Fabian Prewett, always trying to stay out of the way of Pringle the caretaker. Exploring Hogsmeade and venturing into the outskirts of the Forbidden Forest. She was always getting into trouble back then. Never serious trouble, but trouble none-the-less. Maybe it was that trouble-making spirit that led her into Magical Law Enforcement, to make sure that trouble never got out of hand. But she was never one to resist a good jelly-legs jinx carefully aimed at a Slytherin bully.

And then she was introduced to Quidditch. It was a mistake, really. Besides the silly compulsory lessons on broom riding that every first year took she didn't have very much interest in riding. She had been on broomsticks ever since she could first sit up and flying had lost its excitement. Going to games her first few years at school didn't spark anything either – the players were all too high and she could never see what was going on. Except for the Snitch. She never understood why none of her friends could see it, the little golden orb zooming around the pitch. It always glinted in the light, and time after time Amelia felt that it was just in reach of the Seeker if they would only stretch a little farther, fly a little faster.

It was after a Gryffindor-Hufflepuff game at the end of her third year when Fabian asked her what she thought of the game. She began a tirade about the current Gryffindor Seeker, how the Snitch had been three inches from his face eight times in just the first five minutes of play, how he was nearly knocked off of his broom three dozen times because he wasn't watching where he was going, and how on earth could he be expected to catch the Snitch if he couldn't even stay on his broom. Fabian and Gideon looked at each other and started laughing. Amelia was indignant.

"We could have won if it wasn't for his… stupidity!" she spat.

"You know," said Gideon with a glint in his eye.

"He's a seventh year," continued Fabian.

"And the post will be open next fall."

"You should try out. You really should."

"You'd be bloody brilliant. You really would."

(The twins had an awful habit of finishing each other's sentences. It was rather eerie. Especially when they started rhyming.)

Amelia thought about it for a moment. A moment is all it takes to make a choice. A moment was all she needed.

So she did.

* * *

And she was bloody brilliant. Mum and Dad never really realized the talent that their eldest daughter had, the sharp eyes and perfect balance that made her into the Gryffindor Seeker students would talk about for years. Though they loved all of their children, their letters were filled with news of Edgar's latest exploits and the appearance of baby Robert. The Bones' just had a general idea of the fact that their daughter was good at Quidditch. But she was better than good. For four years she flew with the wind in her hair, her head in the clouds, and her hand outstretched. She flew alone, practicing every day, rain, sleet, snow. Some students swore that they could see gold flecks in her eyes. And when the Snitch was in sight, she hardly ever missed.

Of course, she did well in her studies too. By the time she finished her seventh year she knew that she wanted to work at the Ministry. She realized after a near-fatal collision of two Beaters during her sixth year that she wasn't going to play Quidditch forever, even though it was expected by nearly the entire school that she would go pro. Her father's sister worked at the Ministry, and Amelia had always been intrigued by the intricate workings of the wizarding world's government. A position in Magical Law Enforcement seemed like the right step, even when the news of her refusal to play for the Magpies got out.

"We can't believe you said no!" Fabian had yelled. Amelia always thought that he was just angry about not being able to bribe her for free tickets.

"To Hamish MacFarlan no less," Gideon questioned in a more subdued tone.

"I just didn't see it. It wasn't the right choice," she had explained.

Besides, Hamish MacFarlan was just too full of himself. He had stormed around the Hogwarts pitch for a while before flying off. And after a nice, cleansing ride up into the clouds and back down to earth again, Amelia Bones knew that what she had told him was true. Quidditch, in her soul, would always and only be at Hogwarts. She wasn't really meant to play on a team. She did it alone. It was the right choice.

* * *

In these halls, she found the one moment she needed.


End file.
